Red Through Clouded Eyes
by nicholasmage
Summary: Spades Slick is finally going to admit his feelings to Miss Paint. Surely she must feel the same? ((A really quick one-shot I wrote in five minutes, just wanted to get this idea out of my head.))


Spades Slick watched his Prospitian dame talk to the Felt members, who he'd recently gained control over. Well, he couldn't really call her 'his', not yet anyway. He hadn't asked her out or anything, but he knew he had feelings for her of a 'red' variety, at least that's what that Karkat kid would say. He just liked being around her and he was sure she felt the same. She was so nice to him, and fed him homemade soup and was just...so kind and cute. He'd never met anyone like her. He would flirt casually with her and she'd respond with a blush or a giggle. She'd bring him his Scotties when he ran out and helped the orange guy get him back to health. She was always pleasant and never had a bad thing to say to him. So, today was the day he was gonna make it official. 'Canon', so to speak. He was gonna make his move and let her know it was okay to get this hypothetical train moving. He walked over in front of Iggy and Fatty, and put his hands on her shoulders. "Hey, dame, you know I like you right? And you, uh, you like me?"

She smiled warmly. "Of course I like you, Mister Slick!"

"Well uh, I think it's time we made it official." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small ring. "I think its about time we went steady."

Her eyes widened at that and she had a bit of a confused look on her face. "Mister Slick, I'm not sure I understand...?" she said softly. The other guys were starting to snicker and he frowned.

"Whaddya mean? What's there to get? I got feelings for you and I want you to be my dame."

"I'm sorry, I-I just don't feel that way about you!" she said, not unkindly.

He took his hands off her shoulders and crossed his arms, a bit miffed. "Then why the hell did you act the way you did!? Being all cute and doing shit for me like you did for three damn years?"

She seemed affected by his outburst and backed up a bit. "I was just being helpful, Mister Slick, I was only trying to make you well again! I'm sorry if you misinterpreted my actions..."

That little bitch. "You led me on is what you did!" he shouted. The green guys started to stare at him, and some came over and pulled Miss Paint away from him. "How could you act this way with me so easily!? God dammit!" He could see she was getting scared and it only added to his rage.

"Hey I think you better leave the lady alone, boss," Itchy said. Slick almost put a knife through him but just turned and stormed out of the room. How could he have been so stupid!? She was only being nice, apparently, and never felt anything like what he did, not once! This was pathetic, he thought as he stabbed a painting in the foyer of the mansion in anger. Was he so fucking unused to a bit of common decency and kindness that he automatically assumes it's flirting? That's about the saddest fucking thing he ever heard.

He knows he's just fucking desperate these days, though, desperate for any attention since...since something happened. Something, he knew, was missing. He had been used to getting some kind of romantic attention before, he thinks. There was someone important, someone who must've made a pretty big impact on his heart if he couldn't handle being treated politely like it meant someone wanted to fuck him! Whatever had happened, something was wrong with him now and he would not get better until he figured it out. Figured out what he had lost and tried not to inadvertently tear out his own heart in the process.

He was so damn pissed at himself he accidentally cut himself with his own knife like an asshole. He stared at the blood on his hand and about what an idiot he was, trying to remember what had been forgotten and what was not there. He sighed decided to just go back to the others and get on with whatever plan he was coming up with to save all they're asses. He'd remember it eventually, instead of just this void in his head. But as he wiped the blood off of his knife, he had a vague feeling that blood wasn't always red.


End file.
